So, I decided today that I really don't like boda bodas very much. And it's only a little bit because I just badly (okay, moderately) burned my leg on a boda's exhaust pipe.
I took a taxi to work this morning, finally. There was on about to leave as I walked up to Kiira Road, so I jumped in. It was pretty uneventful. I have yet to figure out exactly how long it should take, so I get nervous about halfway through the ride and start to wonder if I've missed my stop. I asked for help from the woman next to me, who told me where we were, and then when to get off. The walk to the office only took about 10 minutes, which is what I expected. The walk from Wandegeya to the office takes me right past the National Resistance Movement's headquarters -- that's Mouseveni's party. Even though the election was in February (I think?), there are posters of all the candidates all over the city and on every available surface. The entrance to headquarters has these big yellow balloon-type things with Mouseveni's face on them. The guards were sitting outside in their blue fatigues this morning, engrossed in their newspapers.
I started researching the East Africa Community this morning, but was interrupted when I got a call to come to Makerere University to conduct another interview with a Darfurian refugee. I reluctantly went, although really -- one was enough. This guy talked a lot more than the one yesterday, but it made it harder to ask all the questions. I don't think I'm doing a very good job getting at what the organization really wants to know, in part because I'm not really an expert interviewer, and in part because of a still-existing language barrier that prevents the refugees from articulating more abstract concepts about citizenship and belonging. I also have to take my own notes while I ask the questions, which makes it hard to think about good, incisive follow-up questions. They want me to do another one tomorrow, and I don't know if I can refuse, but I'd like to. I find that, although it was definitely really cool to do be able to do it, one was enough... I'd rather do research. (Maybe my dad is right, and I really am an academic at heart.)
I got back to the office in time for lunch, and for the battle of the American versus the Giant Black Ants to begin. I had noticed them before -- these ants are probably an inch long, and they're resilient buggers. They apparently like sugar, and so they climb all over the desk (and, in one truly gross moment, on me) in search of sugar. I would flick them off the desk, and another one would show up ten seconds later. It was unpleasant.
I stayed at the office until around 6:45 tonight, waiting for Emily (the girl I'll live with starting next week) to come get me so we could go to dinner. I found out there's a Nando's here, which is a South African fast food chain that is delicious, and we decided to go. She also invited her two roommates. We were going to meet the roommates at a craft market, but Emily was running late, so we just went straight to the restaurant. It was good, although the quality of the chicken was markedly worse than in South Africa, England, or the United States (all the countries I've eaten Nando's in). The four of us sat around and talked for about two hours. Then we got onto two bodas (two people on each) and headed back to the suburbs where we live. The two roommates went back to their apartment, but Emily came with me to my motel -- it was dark and she didn't want me to be on a boda alone (especially as a boda driver tried to rob her last night... oops), and she wanted to get something called a Rolex for dinner, since she didn't like her veggie burger from Nando's. A rolex appears to be a thin crepe-like pancake with egg on the inside. I was too full to try one, but it's good to know they exist. Then Emily went back home, and I went back to the motel.
The title of this entry ("a battle wound") refers to the pretty significant burn I now have on my leg that I got while dismounting the boda boda. Instead of foot rests on the sides, I realized (too late) that my foot had been resting on a very hot exhaust pipe. I hit it with the inside of my right calf when I got off the motorcycle. It's not the end of the world, but it blistered and the skin peeled off right away, and it hurts like hell. I've got it all bandaged up now, but it's still stinging and throbbing, even an hour later. The experience just compounded my observations from today, which is that I just... really don't like boda bodas. I imagine horrible accidents every time I'm on them, and when they tilt a bit to the side when taking a sharp turn, I always panic that the bike is going to fall over or that I'm going to fall off. Add to this the fact that they're expensive, and it makes for not a very attractive transportation option. Unfortunately, they're the only way to get to certain places, so I think I'll have to continue taking them -- but hopefully only for short distances. Emily and I took one the entire length of the city tonight, and I was pretty unhappy the whole time.
I took a taxi to work this morning, finally. There was on about to leave as I walked up to Kiira Road, so I jumped in. It was pretty uneventful. I have yet to figure out exactly how long it should take, so I get nervous about halfway through the ride and start to wonder if I've missed my stop. I asked for help from the woman next to me, who told me where we were, and then when to get off. The walk to the office only took about 10 minutes, which is what I expected. The walk from Wandegeya to the office takes me right past the National Resistance Movement's headquarters -- that's Mouseveni's party. Even though the election was in February (I think?), there are posters of all the candidates all over the city and on every available surface. The entrance to headquarters has these big yellow balloon-type things with Mouseveni's face on them. The guards were sitting outside in their blue fatigues this morning, engrossed in their newspapers.
I got back to the office in time for lunch, and for the battle of the American versus the Giant Black Ants to begin. I had noticed them before -- these ants are probably an inch long, and they're resilient buggers. They apparently like sugar, and so they climb all over the desk (and, in one truly gross moment, on me) in search of sugar. I would flick them off the desk, and another one would show up ten seconds later. It was unpleasant.
I stayed at the office until around 6:45 tonight, waiting for Emily (the girl I'll live with starting next week) to come get me so we could go to dinner. I found out there's a Nando's here, which is a South African fast food chain that is delicious, and we decided to go. She also invited her two roommates. We were going to meet the roommates at a craft market, but Emily was running late, so we just went straight to the restaurant. It was good, although the quality of the chicken was markedly worse than in South Africa, England, or the United States (all the countries I've eaten Nando's in). The four of us sat around and talked for about two hours. Then we got onto two bodas (two people on each) and headed back to the suburbs where we live. The two roommates went back to their apartment, but Emily came with me to my motel -- it was dark and she didn't want me to be on a boda alone (especially as a boda driver tried to rob her last night... oops), and she wanted to get something called a Rolex for dinner, since she didn't like her veggie burger from Nando's. A rolex appears to be a thin crepe-like pancake with egg on the inside. I was too full to try one, but it's good to know they exist. Then Emily went back home, and I went back to the motel.
The title of this entry ("a battle wound") refers to the pretty significant burn I now have on my leg that I got while dismounting the boda boda. Instead of foot rests on the sides, I realized (too late) that my foot had been resting on a very hot exhaust pipe. I hit it with the inside of my right calf when I got off the motorcycle. It's not the end of the world, but it blistered and the skin peeled off right away, and it hurts like hell. I've got it all bandaged up now, but it's still stinging and throbbing, even an hour later. The experience just compounded my observations from today, which is that I just... really don't like boda bodas. I imagine horrible accidents every time I'm on them, and when they tilt a bit to the side when taking a sharp turn, I always panic that the bike is going to fall over or that I'm going to fall off. Add to this the fact that they're expensive, and it makes for not a very attractive transportation option. Unfortunately, they're the only way to get to certain places, so I think I'll have to continue taking them -- but hopefully only for short distances. Emily and I took one the entire length of the city tonight, and I was pretty unhappy the whole time.
Katie,
ReplyDeleteTake care of that burn! I was just introducing Lise to Nando's last week. They're now popping up all over the DC region. I'm with you on them!